MRD2026

Holder🍵

2KFollowing

1.5Kfollowers

Feed

CH6: THE KEYBOARD HERO. At the time of passing the interview at the company with Du, there was another person named Long, whom everyone jokingly called NIGHT OWL LONG. A genuine "keyboard hero." He looked scholarly, was quiet and shy in real life, but on social media, he was very aggressive, liking to attack others to get a sense of victory. Perhaps because he joined at the same time and was quite close to Du, the two became good friends. In the work corner, the clacking sound of keyboard typing rang continuously, rapidly like battle drums. Long smiled smugly, his fingers flying over the keyboard. The screen displayed a scandalous post (truth unknown) about an online cake shop using poor-quality ingredients. The title: "Expose Corner: Student Cake Shop A uses expired jam as filling? I ate it and noticed a strange taste." LONG (typing a comment): "Doing business so unscrupulously and still managing to operate. This kind must be boycotted until the shop closes! The owner must be no good either." Long pressed "Enter." The "Like" button and interaction count surged below his comment. Long leaned back in his chair, satisfied. In a small kitchen, clean but cluttered with baking ingredients. A girl was carefully decorating a small cake. The phone notification bell (Facebook) rang continuously with a loud, piercing sound. She stopped, wiped sweat from her forehead, and picked up the phone. Her face turned pale, eyes brimming with tears as she read the comments. The phone showed a series of order cancellation messages: "I’m canceling the cake," "Disgusting, won’t buy anymore,"... and the peak was Long’s comment pushed to the top of the page. The girl sat down on the kitchen floor, covering her face and sobbing. The half-finished cake fell, the smooth cream stained and ruined…. At a quiet café, bathed in afternoon sunlight. Long sat in a corner with Du after work, scrolling his phone, looking bored because there was no "drama" online today to argue about. Across the room, An was bowing her head apologizing to the café owner (where she consigned cakes for sale). OWNER (sighing, apologetic tone): "I know you’re meticulous with your work, but the rumors online are terrible. Customers read them and don’t dare to buy anymore. For now, please take these cakes back." An took back the tray holding the pretty cakes, bowed in thanks, then turned away. Her eyes were red. Long happened to look up and witnessed the whole scene. He realized this girl was the cake shop owner from last night’s post. The real-life face of the "victim" made Long pause. She looked tired, hurt, and completely different from the "cunning shop owner" image Long had imagined in his head. It started to drizzle. At the bus stop, only Long and An were waiting. An sat on the bench, holding the cake tray carefully wrapped to avoid the rain. Her phone rang again. She answered, trying to hold back her sobs. (to be continued in comments)

Ch4: The mysterious "big shot" and mom's sudden change of heart "Tuan, your uncle Pham's son, is three years younger than you, and he just got married to a beautiful city girl! I heard he's the 'face' of some digital 'defi' company, spending money like water, building houses, buying cars, everything. And what about you..." The timeless song of parents in the countryside echoed through the crackling phone speaker. Du could only respond with vague acknowledgments and then change the subject. Hanging up, he sighed and looked up at the ceiling. Du was born into a purely farming family, a "standard poor household." As a child, reading newspapers full of thrilling stories, he prayed day and night, hoping his parents were secretly wealthy, pretending to be poor to test his patience. But harsh reality slapped him in the face every day: watching his mother carefully pick through every vegetable, his father painstakingly collecting tiny shrimp and fish to sell for small change to buy medicine, Du knew he was born into a "struggle to overcome" script, with no "CEO" anywhere in sight. Graduating university with honors, Du once had a great opportunity to study abroad. But seeing his family's empty wallet and his father's frequent back pain, he reluctantly gave up the chance, took a desk job with a salary "barely enough to live if you don't breathe hard." Four years after graduation, money sent home for his parents' medicine, savings for the future, and the rest just enough for him to afford breathing the expensive air of the capital. That's why his wallet was always "under maintenance," and marriage was out of the question. But it was his mother's "other kids" phone call that planted an infinite curiosity in Du's mind about two words: DeFi. That was the fateful turn that led Du to stumble into the Crypto world. Since that day, he officially joined the "technology monk club." Du's free time was sucked into computer screens and red-green candlestick charts. His social relationships gradually withered as he was busy "watching orders," but in return, his account started to see cash flow, and life's pressure eased somewhat. Du was proud to be an educated trader, not a gambler. Until one late night a few months later... Just after closing a Long position, the clock struck 11 PM when his phone screen suddenly lit up. Seeing "Mom calling," Du's heart skipped a beat. Back home, elders were usually in bed by 8 PM. A call at this hour meant only two things: either winning the lottery or a big problem. Answering quickly, his mother's breathless voice rushed out: "Du... Du! I just ran back from Uncle Pham's house. Tuan was taken by the police in the city! Fraud charges, some kind of digital 'ghost project' scam! Your dad said he heard you also play with crypto, listen to me, stop it! I'm so worried, our family is poor but must be clean!" Du froze for three seconds, then hurriedly rubbed his chest to reassure her: "Mom, calm down and listen. Tuan was running a scam, a pyramid scheme. But I'm investing in legitimate digital assets, buying and selling according to the market, like gold or stocks, it's legal. You can sleep peacefully, your son is timid, wouldn't dare do anything wrong!" After a long explanation, his mother finally sighed in relief and hung up. Du lay back on the mattress, looked up at the ceiling, and a bitter smile curled at the corner of his lips. Indeed, in this world, what comes fast also goes fast; doing wrong will sooner or later break your wings. He gave himself a perfect score for discipline and silently vowed: it might be okay to be poor, to have unrealistic dreams, but never let greed cloud a kind heart. (to be continued)

Ch3: The Bowl of Porridge Called “Happiness”? The horrific collision with the luxury car in Chapter 1 not only shattered the car’s taillight but also crushed Du’s 8-month relationship. That night, after pushing his bent motorcycle into the shop, Du looked at his phone, which had shut down and had a shattered screen, feeling his heart burning like fire. He knew very well how strict the security was at his girlfriend’s upscale apartment complex; without a card or someone to pick him up, he could only stand and watch the guards. When he finished fixing the bike and turned on his phone the next morning, a series of notifications exploded like bombs. Du’s heart sank with every message: “Maybe we’re not meant to be…”, “I tried to understand you…”, “I need time to think…”. After weeks of futile attempts to hold on, on October 9, 2025, Du typed his last message: “I’m not good enough, let’s stop here. Wishing you peace.” The reply on the other end was a crying face emoji 😢. That symbol pierced Du’s heart, painfully… That night, Du went drinking with his close colleagues at the company to drown his sorrows. As the alcohol loosened his tongue, in a half-drunk, half-awake state, an unknown courage surged within him. Du dashed out of the bar, running like a god straight to his ex-girlfriend’s building. When Du arrived at the lobby, he saw a familiar figure. Without thinking, he ran to hug her tightly. They sobbed together in the apartment lobby like a Korean drama. She led him up to the apartment, kindly told him to take a shower, then personally cooked a hot mixed porridge, feeding him spoonful by spoonful. Though his stomach felt uneasy and full of discomfort, Du forced himself to swallow. Oh, this was the taste of healing, the bowl of porridge of reclaimed happiness! He fell asleep in utter contentment... Beep beep... Beep beep... The alarm blared repeatedly. Du, half asleep, reached out to check the clock. It was already past noon the next day. He jolted awake, about to turn and hug his lover when... Alas! Before him was not the luxurious apartment of his girlfriend but the familiar four walls of his rented room. The bed was soaked in a large wet patch, mixed with the "product" of last night’s vomiting scattered everywhere, emitting a strong stench. Du was utterly confused: He clearly remembered eating the porridge his lover cooked?! He grabbed his phone, and the first message he saw was from a colleague: “Up yet, you drunken ghost? You vomited like a fountain last night, I had to carry your ass all the way to bed, totally exhausted. I already took the morning off for you.” Turns out, there was no reunion at all. The sweet mixed porridge from last night was actually... his own vomit in a drunken stupor! But misfortunes never come singly; when it’s dark, even the light goes out. Swiping down the screen further, he saw a suspicious Gmail notification. Pulling down the notification bar, Du nearly fainted when he saw an email from the Crypto exchange. A bad premonition, he tremblingly opened the app. The screen was drenched in deep blood-red. The Future order he opened while drunk had officially been liquidated. Because he didn’t set a stop loss, 85% of his hard-earned assets had officially "vanished" into thin air. It turned out that at midnight, in his intoxicated state, his guilty hands had checked the candles and made a "oh no" decision straight to the grave. Du’s mind went completely blank. His eyes wide open, ears ringing, hands trembling so much he couldn’t press any keys. He collapsed onto the bed, silently crying amid the battlefield reeking of alcohol. Exactly one year ago today, people were eagerly hunting sales, while Du was "selling off" both love and money! That was October 10, 2025… (to be continued)